full of em
I actually have the worst neighbor luck. I'm full of stories. Growing up, I lived next door to two brothers, fraternal twins in their fifties who were the only people in the world who could stand each other. One was a retired mailman, and the other had served his debt to society after assaulting a woman in a phone booth, while on cocaine.

They owned fourteen cars between the two of them, which they washed on a rotating schedule. I was constantly being yelled at to keep away from the cars. Towards the end, one of them managed to master a whole murder of crows and fed them hot dogs, gave them names, and talked to them (actual overheard conversation: "Al, you're my only friend"). Naturally, the crows ate all the fruit from my parents' trees and took to cawing on the telephone wire outside their bedroom window at 6 am. One time the brother quite literally ambushed me as I was attempting to wash my car. One began talking about Nazi Germany, while the other offered that in 15 minutes he could make my hubcaps sparkle and shine. "It's a Volvo." I told him. "My hubcaps are plastic with silver spray paint on them". Eventually I ended up going inside and watching TV while they washed my car for me. Ha!

That's more crazy than scary, I guess. The scary part is that these recovering narcotic addict brothers, who have screaming matches and talk to crows, have a 3-ton walk-in gun safe in their basement. Hooray!
(Mabel DelTaco, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 8:52, Reply)